Happy Birthday
by Tazy2011
Summary: a bunch of peoples birthdays


_**Fourties.**_

_**Fourty-Seven**_

Bellatrix opened her eyes slowly to the dark room that she had been sleeping in. She felt a small pang of sadness hit her. She'd gotten used to Rodolphus waking her up with a birthday greeting on this day. She'd hoped it would continue once out of Azkaban, and it had when she was fourty-six, but this year, on the 25th of October, no handsome man grinned at her.

She rolled over and put her feet down on the hard, cold, wooden floor. The fact that her niece had been the murderer of Bella's husband angered her, and had only made her more determined to kill Nymphadora.

Tired, she pulled on an emerald dressing grown and opened the door quietly. She doubted anyone would be awake yet. She knew that it would probably only be Narcissa who would remember it was her birthday.

Bellatrix made her way down the spiralled stairs that were close to her room and led down the one that her master held the meetings. As she'd suspected, no one was there, and not even a cry from the prisoners below cut through the silence. She wandered through to the kitchen, to find a couple of drunken snatchers lying unconscious on the marble floor. Disgusted, she gave them a kick, causing a grunt from each.

Resting her head on the high window that had been opened, Bella sighed. What a _happy _atmosphere. Outside was grey and windy, no rays of sun cracking through the clouds.

"Happy Birthday, Bella," she muttered to herself.

_**Fourty-Six**_

Grinning at her sister, Bellatrix drunk from the wine filled goblet. Her Master was meant to be coming later. Rodolphus handed her a present, which she took. She laughed when she saw what was inside – he'd given her a new dagger. "Thank you, Rod," she said kissing his cheek. He smiled weakly; quite frankly, it worried him how his wife was so violent. But he'd never say anything.

_First birthday out of Azkaban_, she thought to herself. She didn't know there would only be one more.

Bellatrix saw her nephew's pale face in a photo on the fireplace. _You better do this, Draco. _She'd received a birthday note from him, which she'd scanned only to hope that he'd mention how well he was doing on the task the Dark Lord had given him.

"When is the Dark Lord meant to be coming, Cissy?" she asked, glancing at her sister.

"Now." The cold voice of Lord Voldemort spoke, and Bellatrix was the only one in the room who wasn't filled with fear.

"Happy birthday, Bellatrix." He said stiffly, and though she knew he was still angry at her for messing up at the ministry, she couldn't help but smile wider when he said that.

"Thank you, Master."

_**Fourty-Five**_

Bellatrix looked out of her prison window glumly. She longed for the days that she was at her master's side, torturing muggles and mudbloods. She knew those days would sometime return to her – she knew her master would reward her for spending 14 years in Azkaban for him.

The only thoughts that kept her alive nowadays were the fact that he was back. She looked back up to the stormy sky and let out a small moan. It wasn't there, that was true, but she could make out a pattern of clouds that somewhat resembled the Dark Mark. Oh, for the days she could cast that symbol into the sky, letting people know Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters had killed once more.

Why hadn't he come yet? He would, surely. Wouldn't he? Or had he forgotten about her? No. Not possible. Well… perhaps.

She knew it was her birthday, only because a Daily Prophet had been thrown into her cell and had read _25th October, 1996. _She'd cackled at the headlines on Dumbledore and Potter. The Ministry were wrong, oh so wrong…

And suddenly she heard her mother's cooing voice speak to her.

"Happy Birthday, Bellatrix."

_**Fourty-Four**_

The same pattern had repeated itself after twelve years. Bellatrix would be sat in her cell, looking at her left arm like always, when a newspaper landing on the cold, uneven ground of her prison cage would disturb the fairly quiet atmosphere and would be bearing the date of her birthday.

Except this year was slightly different. She'd received her first present since she'd been shut up in Azkaban. Her dark mark had grown stronger over night.

The voice of Tom Riddle Jr. echoed through her head. "Happy Fourty-fourth, my Bella."

_**Fourty-Three**_

Cold. Gloominess. Anger.

Her cousin had escaped. How?

October the 25th.

And this year, Sirius's laughter was heard instead the buzzing noises that were normally stuck in her head. "Happy Birthday, 'Trix."

_**Fourty-Two**_

A childhood memory replayed itself in Bellatrix's head.

She and her sisters were sitting by the lake found in the back garden of Black Manor. The eldest sister's head was lying in Narcissa's lap. Andromeda was looking at them seriously, and the evening's sunshine gave an orange glow to Bellatrix's figure. Out of the three of them, Bellatrix had always been the more attractive one, followed closely by Cissy. Meda was considered the plain one, not having inherited pure Black looks like Bella, Cygnus's favourite, or Rosier looks, like Druella had passed onto the youngest.

There was no speech, just the rushing of the water in front of them and the croaks of crickets that inhabited the cared for grass.

Through the thick silence that hung in the air, Bella's blood-traitor sister Andromeda spoke.

"Happy Birthday, Bells!"

_**Fourty-Two**_

Anger. Hatred.

Grieving. Sadness.

Wishing. Wanting.

**Lost Love.**

Barely audible whispers wish her a happy birthday. The tone of their voices suited Bella's mood.

Gloomy.

_**Fourty-One**_

Tears splashed onto the chipped marble floor. Bellatrix's tears. She just longed for him, longed for his voice, his touch, his power…

_Stop!_ She almost screamed it out loud.

He _would _return.

She hoped she wouldn't be too old for him when he was once more preparing for war.

'Happy Birthday." Lucius's drawl didn't give her any happiness.

_**Fourty**_

The big four oh. Was it really as good as this for everyone else?

Sarcasm was a big part of Bella's life


End file.
